


Run Aground

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angry Sex, Beach Sex, Cave of Bones, M/M, Marooned, S3 AU, Slight Hopelessness, Smut, Superstitions, slightly creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: After the storm the Walrus ran aground on a tiny island with a cave filled to the brim with dead mans bones.





	Run Aground

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fifteen Men in September](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6880636) by [ballantine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballantine/pseuds/ballantine). 



> Woo, this only took 4 something months to write. 8D I was inspired by Fifteen Men in September, which I now don't really even remember, which means it's time to go read it again, yay!

“This is perfect,” Silver muttered, his crutch thudding in the sand as he struggled his way up the beach, resolutely keeping his eyes off of Flint, lest he give into the instincts telling him to wrap his hands around the other man's throat and squeeze until Flint was no more.

“It could be...”

“Billy, if you even think about trying to tell me how this could be worse,” Silver growled and Billy stilled next to him while Silver kept walking.

“We're alive,” the taller man said quietly and Silver stopped, hanging his head as he drew a deep breath.

Yes, they were alive, all nineteen of them, but they were also marooned on a tiny island with one longboat and no fresh water or food. The _Walrus_ was beached on a sandbar out in the sea, the rocks and rip tide surrounding the ship making it impossible to reach her, and with so few men they would never get her back in the water anyway. They had barely made it to the shore in the aftermath of the storm.

“Do we have any shelter?” Silver asked at last, turning slightly to look at Billy, who was staring at the sand under his feet. The tall man clenched his fists then raised his head, his face determined.

“There's one canvas in the longboat, and I'll take some men and explore. We may find caves on the leeward side of the island,” he said, straightening up.

“Very well,” Silver said, turning back and continuing to limp up the beach, still resolutely ignoring Flint, who stood in the surf, staring at the ruin of his ship out in the bay, tilted heavily on it's side, rigging torn to pieces.

“You'll be alright?” Billy asked quietly at Silver's elbow and the quartermaster nodded.

“I promise not to kill him until you return,” he said quietly, only half joking as he waved Billy away and sank down on a rock, taking the pressure off his iron leg, fingers digging into his thigh to try and reduce the cramps as he glared at the back of Flint's head.

“I'll try to return by sun down,” Billy said finally and moved off to gather some of the men before they headed inland, toward the cliffs that ringed the north and west of the island.

Silver sighed, turning to where the rest of the crew was setting up camp, eyes searching for the Captain among them. He'd disagree with Flint's course of action, a course of action that had landed them here, on this fucking island, and he wanted nothing more than to get into it with Flint, tell him exactly what he thought, perhaps throw a few punches, but now wasn't the time. First they had to find a way off this rock.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon when Billy returned, slipping into the firelight from one of the three fires that had been started on the beach. The men had managed to find some fruit and a few large lizards and were making a decent meal of them, all quite distracted when Billy came close.

“We have a problem,” Billy said quietly and Silver nodded, standing carefully and following him into the trees with a glance at the other men. The lizard was almost cooked and someone had found a barrel of rum washed up on the shore, so the drinking and singing had began. There was no sign of Flint.

“What did you find?” Silver asked and Billy glanced at him, not answering as they moved forward. Ten minutes later they reached the mouth of a cave and Billy handed Silver the torch, nodding to the black maw.

“We're not the first to have been marooned here,” he said quietly and Silver approached the cave with some trepidation, his eyes wide as he tried to see what lay beyond the ring of torchlight. As the cave came into the light he found to his horror that he was looking at a pile of bones, and not just one, a dozen or more.

“What is this?” Silver asked quietly as he swung the torch around to see more bodies scattered in the back of the cave, more than he first thought, many more.

“I know where we are, and I'm guessing the captain does too,” Billy said, refusing to venture into the cave again. “They call it the Devil's Throat. The story is that when a captain offends the devil, he opens his mouth and swallows the ship, trapping it in purgatory so that every man will die slowly of hunger, thirst, and bloodlust.”

“We're not in purgatory,” Silver growled, limping out of the cave and thrusting the torch at Billy.

“We may as well be,” Billy said. “The only men ever rescued from here say there is no food, no water, and the only shelter was a cave filled to the brim with dead mens bones.”

“You're superstitions,” Silver grumbled, shoving past Billy and heading back toward their makeshift camp. “We'll get out of here, there's always a way. Besides, didn't you see that lizard on the spit? It's not so bad.”

“Yet,” Billy mumbled and Silver rolled his eyes as they returned to camp. “And what exactly killed those men and stacked up their bones in that cave?

Silver grunt, but didn't answer. He didn't know, and he didn't particularly like to think on it.

A week later things were looking decidedly worse. Two men had come down with fever, three more had gotten in a fight and were sporting broken bones. They had rationed what food they had rescued and what they'd collected, but it was beginning to run low. The rum was long gone. Silver and Flint hadn't spoken since they'd washed up on the beach.

Finally, Silver had enough. He stormed over to Flint, his crutch thumping in the sand as loudly as possible, staring down at Flint, who was sitting by a rock carving a piece of wood, until he looked up. When Flint finally set his knife aside and deigned to glance up at Silver, Silver jerked his head and walked away, leaving no room for argument that he was to be followed. He smirked in satisfaction when he heard Flint rise behind him and his footsteps crunching through the underbrush as they wound their way inland.

Finally, after long enough that they were out of earshot he stopped and turned.

“What are you going to do about this?”

“This?” Flint asked, stopping a few feet away. “What this?”

“Getting us off this fucking island,” Silver snapped.

“What the hell am I supposed to do? We're marooned, there's nothing we can do but wait and hope that someone friendly comes looking for us,” Flint muttered, turning away.

“Did you know there is a cave filled with bones on the far side of the island? We've seen nothing yet, but what kind of creature does that, what piles up a mans bones in a cave like a dragon hoarding gold?”

“So that's where we are,” Flint muttered. “I'm sure Billy told you the tale. It's no monster and it's not purgatory. There was a slaughter here half a century ago, two slave ships marooned and they killed all the slaves and piled them in the cave. Nothing more nefarious than that. No dragon, no supernatural monsters, just cruel men.”

“And when we start to die, will your pile our bodies in the cave as well?”

“Have you lost your mind at last?” Flint asked, turning to him, glaring through the darkness.

“We wouldn't fucking be here if it weren't for you!” Silver nearly screamed.

“You think this is my fault?” Flint growled and Silver bristled. They were on the far side of the island, none of the men were within hearing distance and he'd had more than enough.

“Your fault?” he asked with a laugh, his voice rising with each word. “This is most certainly your fault! You sailed us into that storm, you could have sailed around!”

“Hornigold was on us!” Flint shouted in return. “He had the weather gage and twice our guns! Would you rather I had us fight a battle that left us all at the bottom of the sea torn to pieces?” he demanded.

“We lost men in that storm!” Silver shouted. “We lost over a dozen men! There was nothing we could do, nothing we could fight! You cannot fight the weather!”

“I can damned well try,” Fling growled harshly. Silver stared at him for a moment, gobsmacked.

“You are such a fool,” he said at last, turning away, defeated. A hand on his arm spun him quickly, nearly taking his balance and he half expected to be punched in the face. Instead Flint kissed him. And he kissed back.

Silver was not really surprised to find out that Flint kissed like he fought, ruthlessly and with all consuming passion. He bit down on Flint's lip, showing the captain that he wasn't going to surrender and Flint growled loudly, pushing Silver until his back was pressed against the rocks, reminiscent of that night in the wrecks that seemed so long ago. It was hard to believe it had only been a handful of months. While they had been hurtling toward this moment, likely since they laid eyes on each other, this was certainly not how Silver had expected it to finally happen.

Grunting into the harsh kiss, he hooked his good leg around Flint's and tumbled them to the ground. Flint landed with a grunt, his arms gripping Silver's to slow his fall, keep the weight off his injury and Silver growled in annoyance. He was as healed as he ever would be, he wasn't going to break. As if to prove a point he grabbed Flint's wrists and wrestled them over their heads, pining them to the sand as he took control of the kiss, roughly shoving his tongue in Flint's mouth and drawing a groan from the other man.

Flint bucked under him, is seemed more of the feel of fighting than to actually dislodge him, and Silver groaned, pressing down on him harder. He could feel Flint's hard length against his leg and he rolled his hips, pressing his own erection down, rubbing against Flint.

“This is not how I imagined this would go,” Silver muttered, hips stuttering when Flint tugged his hand free and got it into his hair, pulling hard.

“You imagined this?” Flint asked roughly. Silver chuckled, grabbing Flint's wrist and pressing it back into the sand over the other man's head, grinding his hips down in retaliation and causing Flint to moan again.

“You didn't?” Silver whispered in his ear, making him shudder.

“I didn't take you for being so controlling,” Flint said, some surprise in his voice. Silver paused and then snorted, thinking back to the days when he'd been so terrified for his life he would have let Flint do absolutely anything to him and loved every minute of it.

“Things change,” Silver growled, pressing Flint back into the sand, grip on his wrists tightening.

“I didn't say I was objecting,” Flint breathed a second before their mouths crashed together again.

“Would you like that captain?” Silver whispered against his mouth. “Would you like me to fuck you out here on the beach, where anyone could come looking for us and see?”

“Yes,” Flint growled, biting at Silver's lips again. “Do it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Silver growled, holding Flint's hands in one of his, reaching down to tug his trousers open, shoving his hand inside and wrapping his fingers around Flint's cock, stroking harshly as Flint gasped beneath him.

“If you're going to fuck me, do it right,” Flint hissed, arching against Silver.

“I don't have any oil,” Silver gasped, grinding down, his own cock still trapped in his breeches. “I'm not that ruthless.”

Flint stilled, and silence fell over them. Finally he spoke, his voice low and almost inaudible.

“In my pocket,” he said quietly and Silver's eyes dropped in surprise, his hand going to Flint's pocket and tugging out a small jar.

“You just carry this with you?” he asked, eyebrows high.

“Fuck you,” Flint growled. He didn't have to answer to Silver.

“No,” Silver said darkly. “I believe it's fuck you. Get on your knees.” He sat back, harshly flipping Flint over and dragging him up, pulling his trousers down so he was fully exposed and Silver moaned, leaning forward and sinking his teeth into Flint's flesh, drawing a yelp from the other man as he worked the jar open and poured a good amount of oil on his fingers, pressing them to Flint's hole immediately.

Flint groaned, bucking against Silver's hands as he pressed his fingers in, working the oil around and stretching him open quickly enough that it burned. His fingers dug in the sand as he pushed his hips back, desperate for more.

Silver groaned when Flint clenched down around his fingers and he pulled them free, reaching for his own clothes and tugged them aside just enough to free his cock and slick it with oil before he lined up and shoved in with one rough movement. Flint screamed, his back arching as Silver bottomed out, fingers tight enough on his hips to bruise, not even giving Flint a second to adjust as he started thrusting right away. It hurt and it burned, but like everything else in their tumultuous relationship so far, it was what they did. Maybe, if they got out of here, there would be time, or want, or opportunity for Flint to take Silver and lay him out and pull him apart the put him back together again, but now...

Now Silver slammed into him at a harsh pace, the sting of each movement sending shock of pleasure to Flint's cock, the feel of being manhandled by his quartermaster overwhelming his senses as he panted, rocking back to meet Silver's thrusts.

“I never thought we'd be here, like this,” Silver gasped, his head thrown back.

“Marooned on an island or fucking on the beach?” Flint growled and Silver reached up and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him up so that Flint's back was against his chest and Silver's cock was sliding over the bundle of nerves inside him, drawing a ragged shout.

“I hate you,” Silver growled in his ear and Flint twitched, clenching around Silver as he pounded into him, his hand dropping to wrap around his cock, mouth hanging open as he tried to keep breathing.

“You need me,” Flint returned, feeling the tension building fast in the pit of his stomach. “More than you'll admit.”

“Fuck you,” Silver snapped, locking his arm around Flint's shoulders and holding his tightly as he fucked in hard.

“Fuck,” Flint chanted, hand rubbing over his cock fast enough to blur until he shuddered, arching with a groan as he coated his hand with his release, Silver still pounding into him from behind.

Moments later Silver groaned, stilling with his thighs flush against Flint's backside. Flint groaned, his head dropping back to Silver's shoulder as Silver shuddered, his cock twitching as he filled Flint with his release. After a long moment he pulled away and they collapsed to the sand, taking only enough time to right their clothes to keep sand from getting everywhere. They lay on their back, staring at the stars as their breathing stilled, neither saying a word. Eventually, when neither made a move to stand, they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

They woke with the dawn to find they had tangled around each other in the night, Silver's arms around Flint and Flint's hands in his hair, one leg locked over Silver's. They stared at one another for a long time as the light rolled over them and finally Flint sighed, brushing his fingers over Silver's cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss.

“We will get out of this,” he whispered quietly and Silver nodded, resting his forehead against Flint's as he sighed, fingers curling tight around Flint's shirt, holding him close.

“I don't hate you,” he said softly. “But you drive me mad.”

Flint chuckled, bumping his head against Silver's before tilting his head down and kissing him again.

“Most days I want to kill you,” he admitted against Silver's lips and they both laughed.

“What a pair we are,” Silver groaned, shifting a little closer, moulding himself against Flint.

“I'm sorry it had to be like that,” Flint said softly.

“Fighting until we fuck? It's not really surprising, is it, captain,” Silver chuckled and Flint snorted, burying his nose in Silver's hair.

“Not surprising, no, but not how I wanted,” he admitted softly, the morning light washing away all their rage, raising hidden emotions from the depths.

“We should get back,” Silver said quietly, and Flint nodded. Neither made a move to stand.

Three days later the Colonial Dawn sailed around the sand bar, and life went on. They returned to their war, their fight against the world, and if there were lingering looks and soft touches now and then, if there were quiet sighs in the darkness and strong arms to ward away the nightmares, whispers words that were never meant for the light of day, who was to know what had changed between the fierce captain and his sly and cunning quartermaster?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on Tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com)


End file.
